


you'd love most to be told  that it's all your own

by ohmcgee



Series: little beasts [49]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, little beasts, the terrible no good fucked-up verse, the usual amount of knives and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4409867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stealing, cheating, killing...who said romance was dead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	you'd love most to be told  that it's all your own

Jason’s kicked back with a beer watching a re-run of Chopped, yelling at the pretentious douchebag chef, when Tim walks through the door, dropping his bag of toys inside the door and heading to the fridge to grab a water.

“Haven’t you seen that one before?” Tim asks when he sits down next to him, leans back into the cushions and sprawls his legs out wide. 

“Yeah,” Jason says. “It’s that d-bag that keeps making excuses like _oh, my flame wouldn’t get hot enough, oh my jelly bellies must have been expired_. Pussy can't admit that the lady from Tennessee is plain whooping his ass.”

“Hm,” Tim says, making a face at the animal cracker soup. “Is that prunes?”

“Uh huh,” Jason says, but he sounds distracted, and when Tim looks at him he sees Jason’s no longer watching the tv, he’s staring at him instead. “How was your little bonfire with Dickie?” He asks and reaches over with his free hand, pushes two fingers into the giant red and purple bruise on the side of Tim’s neck. 

“Interesting,” Tim says, huffing impatiently when Jason knocks his beer out of his hand onto the floor and climbs into his lap to straddle him. 

“Smell like him,” Jason says, rubbing his nose over the hickey on Tim’s neck. “Like smoke and,” he drags his nose along Tim’s collarbone. “-- tootsie rolls and --” He kisses Tim hard, sweeps his tongue into his mouth. “Sex.”

Tim grabs Jason by his hips and leans up to kiss him again, moans when Jason catches his bottom lip with his teeth and latches on until Tim’s blood spills out onto his tongue. 

Jason just grins and leans back onto Tim’s thighs, starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Can’t believe you _cheated_ on me, baby. I thought what we had was real, you know? Everlasting, ride off into the sunset together, matching tattoos kind of thing.”

Tim snorts. “That why you’ve got Bruce’s hand prints on your ass? Because you wanna marry me?”

“That,” Jason says, sitting back with a smirk. “Was at least a week ago. Things have changed since then.”

“Yeah?” Tim asks, gasping as Jason drags his nails down his chest. “Like what?”

“Like I decided no one else gets to touch you,” Jason says, fists his hand in Tim’s hair and yanks his head forward, crushing their mouths together, then grins. “Not unless they ask me first.”

“Fuck off,” Tim says, biting at Jason’s mouth, grabs Jason around the waist and tosses him onto the floor, pins him down with his thighs. “I’ll fuck who I want to fuck, when I want to fuck them, and you won’t say shit.”

He grabs Jason’s cock through his jeans and Jason arches into it, so Tim leans forward, pops the button on Jason’s jeans and takes his dick out. “It was so good,” he murmurs across Jason’s jaw as he jerks him off. “ _He_ was so good. Made me dance with him.”

“Oh, fuck.” Jason remembers the first time Dick took him dancing, how Bruce just stood in the corner watching them, how hard he fucked Jason in the bathroom before they left.

“Came in his pants just from grinding on me --”

“Oh _god_ , tell me --”

“Got me off in the middle of the club with people everywhere. Everyone could see me and there’s nothing --” Tim nips at Jason’s ear. “you can about it.”

“Christ _fuck_ ,” Jason swears and spills all over Tim’s hand, drags him down and fucks his tongue into his mouth, pushes Tim’s shirt off the rest of the way and slides his hands down his back.

"Mm, what do we have here?” Jason asks when he gropes Tim’s ass, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a knife he’s never seen before. Tim’s freaky about his knives, only has three that he keeps on him at all times, even has _names_ for them, and this isn’t one of them.

“Oh,” Tim says, bringing his hand up to lick Jason’s come from his fingers “I got you a present.”

Jason pulls it up, hits the catch and watches the blade spring up an inch from Tim’s cheek. It has someone else’s initials etched into the hilt and streaks of blood stained into the blade; Tim probably took it off the last body he had to drop. Jason drags the blade across his jeans to clean it, squeezes his thighs around Tim to roll them over and pin Tim to the ground.

“Aw,” Jason grins, pressing the flat part of the blade against Tim’s throat, using just enough pressure to make Tim’s eyes get swallowed up by black. “And they say romance is dead.”


End file.
